


I Don't Know (If This is Empathy I Feel)

by ContinuoslyLivingAfraid



Series: Oh No (I Think I'm Catching Feelings Now) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Plot Twists, There's a relationship I did not tag but should be expected if you read the series, Unreliable Narrator, all my fics are unreliable narrator actually, also dteam friendship, also how do u linebreak in ao3 ;-;, also i have complaints, cus i miss my friends :(, just because author is unreliable, not for plot reasons or anything, why the frick-frack-paddy-whack is bbh's tag his real name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContinuoslyLivingAfraid/pseuds/ContinuoslyLivingAfraid
Summary: You seek advice. You ask everyone you meet for help. You look at other's eyes in hopes they'll give you a path to take.But from the very beginning, you've already made your choice, haven't you?------------The third work in a series featuring no happy endings.Recommended to read at least the first work in the series. But still readable as a stand alone.Enjoy.
Relationships: All Relationships Established by Previous Works in Series, Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), other implied relationships
Series: Oh No (I Think I'm Catching Feelings Now) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028886
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	I Don't Know (If This is Empathy I Feel)

In the night, everything seemed to shift. Dewdrops turned to diamonds, and grass blades turned to void. Darkness drowned the bluebell skies; only celestial fires could pierce through that black tar, and only white moonlight could wade onto Earth’s surface.

Below it all was a man.

The veil of silver draped over his bronze strands, turning them platinum. The streams fell onto his neck and fingers, making pale skin paler. They dripped onto his clothes — pasture-green belonging to sweet spring mornings — and pooled around his feet.

The man, adorned in ivory, was a marble colossus.

Yet he shrouded himself in shadows.

Behind a mask, green eyes flitted — onto the grasshoppers amidst the green, the cicadas on the bark, the owls amongst the branches. Fists clenched and loosened, and feet shuffled, juggling his weight.

“It’s fine,” he whispered. His voice hung heavy in the forest’s tranquillity. “He’ll come. It’s fine.”

The man tilted his head upwards. An unseen frown moulded itself onto his face while emerald eyes bored holes into the moon.

It was full.

He wished it wasn’t. He prayed that tonight, not even their shadows could be traced.

“As long as no one knows, it’s fine.”

* * *

* * *

“And no one could know if I dress like this.”

Dream grinned. He had to pat himself on the back for this one.

A white shirt and loose pants looked nothing like his typical attire. Not to mention the brown cloak he wore. He just needed to tie his hair and take off his mask and —

Voila!

Gone was the mask-wearing god of the town. In his place, a typical man who did typical things. Perhaps his blond hair and green eyes were recognisable, but those were average features, especially if you considered the countless folks wearing animal masks.

Though, he supposed he should have passed up the cloak; the afternoon air blazed crazy hot.

The masses of people certainly did not help. Townsfolk were scrambling left and right, shouting about and generally being chaotic. They jammed the streets; Dream had to squeeze in between them to get around town.

Sweat slid down his forehead.

If Dream were trying to fool himself, he’d say it was the heat: that darned summer sun, whose beams stuck like syrup onto his skin. Or he’d say it was the crowd and how their bodies clumped together like sardines in a can. Or maybe he’d blame the sour-scented air. Or the dust. Or the humidity.

‘But,’ he thought.

He licked his dry, chapped lips.

‘I know that’s not the case.’

The blond stopped in front of a tall, marble archway.

It stood on the east border of the town, leading to a seemingly never-ending piece of land. In it, there were training fields, arenas, stadiums, and so many more. Arguably, it was the busiest part of town. People of all sorts came here: the young and old, the locals and visitors, the warriors and comedians.

He stepped off of the town’s dirt path and onto cobble ones.

It was as if he had travelled to a new world.

The surroundings no longer looked grimy or old. Fresh flower bushes and miniature statues lined the road. A sea of huge, state-of-the-art houses came into view, bearing intricate details and decorations.

But that wasn’t all.

A stairway at the end of the road led down to a court. It spanned as wide as the town centre. And its floor was tiled with intricate patterns, all made by stones of different types. On each side, an arching stairway framed a path upwards. There must be at least a hundred steps on those stairs; its height could combat mountains. The sheer scale of it all made Dream feel minuscule.

Atop the arching stairs, lines and rows of statues stood on a stage. They were the champions, the victors and the winners.

Among them was the man Dream was searching.

A part of Dream worried about finding him — he could be anywhere, and this place was huge — but luck was on his side.

In the distance, a metal gate unlocked. It rose, unrevealing a tall man. Pink hair thrashed wildly as its owner marched out of his cage.

The beast stilled.

A lump of sweat scraped down Dream’s neck.

Brown eyes — dark as winter nights and sharp as shards — met green.

Despite their distance, the pink-haired man tracked Dream down in an instant. Despite their distance, Dream could smell the bloodstains on the other’s pig mask. Despite their distance, Dream could see the other open his mouth, forming the syllable that is his name.

* * *

* * *

“Dream.”

The blond’s only response was a hitched breath and tensed muscles.

Green eyes peered at the darkness. From the shadows, a man stepped out.

Boots crushed fallen leaves, and a red cape swayed in the wind. Hair locks the colour of meadowsweets and petunias framed a boar-skull mask. A loose ponytail kept the rest of his mane still.

Dream forced himself to relax.

The other man was familiar territory. A friend he hadn’t known for a very long time, but a friend nonetheless. They were basically of the same breed. So similar, yet so different. Besides, he had never looked at Dream with malice. Though Dream never noticed, his eyes — usually a sea of dead and dried trees — turned to sparrows whenever the blond came into view.

Dream took in a deep breath.

“Techno.”

Technoblade squinted.

Despite Dream’s full-face mask, the beast could tell something was off. There was a smile in that tone, but it was wiry. It sounded crooked, strained and almost pained. Stumbling from Dream’s lips, his name tasted of steel and iron. His voice smelled sour, almost acidic.

He chose to ignore it for now.

“So you wanted to talk?”

Dream let out a huff of laughter. Brittle.

“Something like that.”

He bit his lip.

Unseen from the other, Techno scrunched his brows. Pain pricked his nerves. Unease washed over his body.

Without warning, Dream turned around.

“Dream?” Techno called out.

“Let’s talk about this farther away from the town.”

Green eyes glanced at the shadows trailing behind them.

“Far away from the forest and the world if we could,” Dream whispered.

His companion heard it. But with a bite on his lips, he silenced any words that threatened to spill.

The god and the beast trudged into the forest.

Behind them, the town’s lights shrunk smaller and smaller as they walked farther and farther away.

* * *

* * *

They were in the dark when one of them broke the silence.

“So,” a high-pitched voice said, extending the ‘o’, “he was nice.”

Dream turned to Bad — formally named BadBoyHalo — with a raised eyebrow.

The older man huffed.

“Okay, I know you’re giving me a look, but it’s very rude to do so with your mask on.”

Dream chuckled. With a smile, he took off his mask.

“There. Happy?” His tone was sardonic, but both parties knew there was no ire. “And yeah,” he continued. “He’s fun.”

Bad hummed. It sounded knowing, and that impish grin he wore painted a very clear picture.

“Not to mention!” Bad shouted — Oh, Dream did not have a good feeling about that tone. — “He’s kinda cute too," the grin grew smug, “right?”

Dream choked.

“What?”

He turned to Bad.

“What!”

His hands started moving around. Nearly as wild as the sputtering that was spewing out his mouth.

“Wait! Whoa, wait. What? Huh?”

A pleased expression slithered onto Bad’s face. Beside him, Dream was still stumbling with his words.

“No. No, no. Wait. Time out. Time out, Bad. Okay.” Arms crossed. Green eyes hardened to a glare. “No. That’s just. That’s just a hard no.”

“Is it really a ‘hard no’ if you’re acting like this?”

At the core of things, both knew this was not how Dream would act if he disagreed.

“Okay, maybe it’s not a ‘hard no’. But you can’t just say that!”

Bad only cackled.

Dream was not having that slander.

“Think about Skeppy!”

A squeak.

“We don’t talk about that!” Bad’s face flushed red. He was swearing up and down that it was in anger, but Dream wasn’t listening.

‘Cute?’

That idea flustered Dream. The more he thought about it, the more bubbles and butterflies burst to life in his chest. He felt like a child first experiencing rain; the puddles scared him but, god, did he want to jump in.

So jumped in he did.

When prompted, visions of ‘him’ flowed in easily. His mask, his hair, his eyes. His actions and behaviour. His speech. His movement. His laughter.

He smelled of — surprisingly — sweet things. Of warm mugs held by loving hands. Of smores and marshmallows shared by a fire. Of worn oak tables by gentle rainfall. His scent reminded Dream of his childhood bedroom. And the bakery by the library. He smelled of all of Dream’s favourite flowers — even though Dream didn’t have any.

His eyes shone like no one else’s. Luminous as streetlights. Friendly as fireflies. They caught the light like fresh ink on hand-written letters. They gleamed like blades and arrow tips. Their colour could only compare to hot chocolate and cinnamon. The brown swirled around and around, whirlpools Dream wouldn’t mind drowning in; after all, they were probably warm.

Warm. That must be the most fitting word for him. He was the embodiment of warmth. Something about him reminded Dream of evenings spent huddled on the couch while a storm brewed outside. His words were warm too. Nutmegs and cloves spilling from his mouth. A dash of ginger here and there. And a bit of allspice to bring it all together. Spicy, but sweet all the same.

Dream thought about how that man said his name. What did that sound like? They have said each other's names about a million times, but Dream couldn’t quite recall how he said —

“Dream!”

Oh.

“Goodness! Were you even listening?” Sharp eyes looked up at green ones.

“Ah, well…”

Bad groaned.

Dream shot him a sheepish smile.

“I was talking about your comment about me and Skeppy.”

“Mhm.”

“And how our conversation about your new friend isn’t about me.”

Dream did not like where this was going.

“It’s about you.”

* * *

* * *

“I’d prefer it if we don’t talk about me.”

Techno only hummed in answer.

“But I’m the one who dragged us here, right?”

Hollow laughter shot out of Dream’s throat.

Techno could feel that laughter claw at his skin. He could feel the pain shredding through his companion.

“You don’t have to,” the beast muttered.

In front of him, Dream stilled.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” Brown eyes — bright as fire — burned holes at Dream’s back. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“You’d let me waste your time like this?”

“Keeping you —” Techno coughed. “Keeping your friends company is hardly a waste of time.”

Dream turned around to Techno. Shock was evident on his face, but once more, Techno couldn’t see it.

“Okay,” Dream whispered.

His reply was bittersweet.

In an attempt to console, the beast stepped closer. Calloused hands reached to hold gloved ones. Techno had no warmth; he was cold and ice and winter. But, gods above, he would do anything to comfort this man.

“I mean it.” The deep rumble echoed deep into Dream’s bones.

“I know.” The songbird voice shone a light on Techno’s heart.

The two walked hand in hand deeper into the forest. Beneath their feet, critters scurried between the grass. Twigs littered the floor. Mud splattered against their shoes.

Still, they kept walking and walking and walking.

They only stopped when they reached a clearing.

Their fingers detangled. The beast mourned the loss of spring.

Dream wordlessly sat down.

Techno followed suit. He brought up his hands to take off his mask.

The other stared at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. When he motioned to do the same as his friend, a tremble took over his fingers.

Of course, the beast noticed.

“You don’t have to.” He’d repeat those words again and again if he had to. Anything to comfort the other.

“Won’t it be unfair?”

Techno’s gaze did not waver.

Dream pointed at the other.

“You don't usually take off your mask. Why now?”

“I trust you.”

The blond gaped at the other’s words.

“And I hope you trust me too.” Sweet pea strands swept through the night air as the beast turned away. “Silence is alright, Dream. Don’t force yourself.”

Neither spoke for some time. All there was the chirping of crickets and the rustling of the wind.

“I —” Dream broke the peace, “I need to do this.”

Techno stayed quiet as the other smiled a self-mocking grin.

“Yet I still can’t bring myself to tell you anything.”

* * *

* * *

“Why not!”

Dream nearly flinched at the outburst.

“C’mon, tell me!”

“Leave me alone, Sapnap.”

“How can you not wanna tell me?” Sapnap wailed and whined and moaned.

He collapsed onto the older.

The blond groaned at impact.

“Get off me…” Dream’s words were but a mutter. There was no ire in his voice, and Sapnap knew that well.

“Not until you tell me!”

But he slid off anyway.

“I’m your best friend, right?” Pale fingers tugged at green cloth. “You’ll tell me everything,” his voice soaked with suppressed hurt, “right?”

“Of course…”

“Then how come I heard that you introduced a new friend to Bad before me? Or George! Does George know? Did he know about your little ‘threesome date’?”

Dream sighed.

“No, Sapnap, George did not know.”

The blonde got up.

“And, it was not a,” Dream pulled up his hand to make air quotes, “‘threesome date’ as you called it.”

A smile — though it was more like a grimace with upturned lips — settled on his face before he continued.

“Besides, you and George were busy that day. That’s why I brought him instead.”

Sapnap shot a half-hearted glare.

“Still doesn’t explain why I didn’t hear it from you first. Or Bad.” His voice lowered into a wobbling mumble the taste of salt. “I heard it from Skeppy first, you know?”

Guilt twined around Dream’s heart, aching and bruising his bones. The weight in his chest grew heavier and heavier as his lips readied to utter his next words. As the consonants and vowels mixed and merged in his mouth, bile trickled steadily into the slowly filling bucket that was his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

An acidic eruption.

“I forgot.”

The silica-rich magma dribbled and oozed and gushed till they pooled around Dream’s feet. 

Wrong. This was all wrong. They were best friends. They told each other everything. Truthfully. With honesty. That was their friendship. Their dynamic. Sapnap could never find out that the words Dream just uttered were nothing but acid and salt and sweetened lies. He blanched just thinking about it.

The lava around his ankles froze into shackles of rocks and stone. The fraud had turned to nothing more than a prisoner of his actions — of his feelings.

Stuck in place, Dream could do nothing but pray that Sapnap took his words at face value.

Silence smothered the next few seconds.

The quiet clung like tar. Like smog and stains, it lingered. Smoke wafted through the room, saturating the air.

Sapnap opened his mouth, and Dream feared that the other might choke on the fumes.

“Okay.”

The sticky, vile silence turned into more of a blanket.

Dream let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thank you.”

An ‘I forgive you.’ was never going to come out of Sapnap’s mouth. They both knew that. Instead, Sapnap pressed himself onto Dream’s side. That was enough. Between the two best friends — even though Dream had betrayed the other, even though Dream had turned ‘best friend’ into nothing more than a hollow title — these gestures and actions and unspoken words were enough.

Sapnap curled in on himself till his head was tucked under the other’s chin.

“Hey.” His syllables, still clammy, stained green cotton. “About you two…”

Near-black eyes — filled to their very brim with life — met green ones. The fire in them flickered and flared. A shine

With the younger’s next words, Dream’s heart shrivelled smaller.

“Are you ever going to tell me the full story?”

* * *

* * *

“I want to, I do.”

Lithe hands clenched uselessly onto the grass.

“It’s just so hard to…”

The fists gripped tighter. Any more force and they would rip out the blades. But they did not stop. Tighter and tighter. Tenser and tenser —

A scarred hand rested atop clenched fists.

With a jolt, Dream whipped his head.

The beast said no words. Only their hands — scarred, calloused, imperfect ones over lithe, pale, gloved ones — carried the conversation.

‘Let go,’ the scarred one said to the lithe. ‘Take your time,’ rough fingers gently pried the fist open, ‘but let go.’

When they did, Techno did not pull his hands away.

The two lingered there.

Maybe they spent minutes. Or they spent hours and days and decades.

Neither cared. This was Dream’s solace. This was Techno’s too.

Techno shifted closer to Dream. He had wanted to ask if the other was feeling better. But without prompt, Dream laid his head on the other’s shoulder. Techno froze. Still, he let himself fall in Helios’ embrace. The god and the beast leaned against each other. The silence enveloping them was unexpected but not unwelcome. Dream’s hands stayed still beneath Techno’s. They did not intertwine their fingers, but Techno squeezed the other’s hand tight in the promise of protection.

A rush of wind blew past the two. A strand of pink hair strayed onto Techno’s face. Before Techno could fix it, Dream reached up. It was mere seconds of contact — the barest and lightest of touches — but Techno swore to keep that in memory for eternity.

“As a thank you,” Dream whispered.

“I’m just doing what friends do.”

Dream said nothing in return. Instead, he reached up to unclasp his mask’s straps. He let the world spin without interruption before sighing.

“I think,” He muttered with a laugh “this is a little more than friends.”

The blonde looked at Techno, and —

Oh, Techno had forgotten how Dream’s eyes looked.

The garden of Eden lived in those irises. Alongside the library of Alexandria and all the lost treasures of the world. And at that moment, those eyes were on him. He could see his reflection in them, turning them into tourmaline seas. In his hands, he held the focus of the greatest man. He was immortal and invincible. He was Hercules and Odysseus all at once.

But those eyes closed. They turned away, and Techno turned to nothing.

“I think,” Dream mumbled, “you already know what I want to talk about.”

A frown.

“Yes.”

“I want to ask a question about us.”

Techno stared at those heaven-sent eyes. They were looking at him, but he knew they weren’t seeing him at all.

“Do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”

* * *

* * *

“I don’t think it’s right.”

Dream gawked at George.

“What?” He asked, affronted.

“I,” George repeated, louder and firmer than before, “don’t think what you’re doing is right.”

Dream only saw white. Supernovas and nebulas and explosions. Searing lights and blaring noises. Static and high-pitched ringing. It was chaos. It was anger. Most of all, it was confusion.

But before he could rebut, George continued.

“You’re leading him on, Dream.

“And I know you don’t mean to. I know you’re a good person. You’d never think of doing that. You mean well, but this is all fun and games to you. To him, it’s a different story. And don’t —”

Dream cut him off.

“What do you mean? I’m not leading him on! Is this about the flirting we do? The jokes him and I make?”

“That!” George lashed out. Brown eyes stared at green; both burned bright. “That’s the problem! It’s only a joke for you, Dream. He doesn’t see it as a joke. Hell, I don’t see it as a joke!”

“George, we’ve talked about this. Him and I. We told each other that, yes, this is a joke. We’re just teasing and having fun! Yeah, we flirt. Yeah, we make kissy faces. Yeah, he’s asked me out on dates. But it’s all just for fun!

“Besides, you and I play-flirt too.”

George sighed and groaned and rolled his eyes.

“It’s not the same, Dream.”

“It is the same!”

“It’s not! It’s not because —”

“How would you know? You just found out about us a couple of days ago!”

“Oh, maybe I know because,” A sarcastic, seething hum. “I dunno…Oh! Right! Because he’s got it bad!”

“Well then, why is ‘him and I’ so different from ‘you and I’?”

“Because he loves you!”

And Dream wondered if he should say his next words. And Dream wondered if he was taking it too far. And Dream regretted his choice before they even shot out his mouth.

“What would you know about love, George?”

That crossed a line.

George’s love life — his real one, not the one he had with Dream — was a taboo topic. No one talked about his many failed attempts. Or his many ‘could-have-been-s’. Or the many ‘It’s not you. It’s me.’ talks.

A pit formed in Dream’s chest.

“George, I —”

“Save it.”

Silence smothered the air. Dream was losing oxygen. His head spun as the world flickered on and off and on and off. George’s shoulders were heaving. Was he about to vomit? Was he stifling his emotions? His anger?

Dream didn’t know.

Dream didn’t deserve to know.

The air froze. Time stopped with no intention of moving forward. After what seemed like an eternity, George broke the silence. It shattered like a beloved Chinese vase. Or the picture frame encasing a family portrait. It hurt. It stung on the first impact, and it lingered as time went on.

“I may not be the best at love,” the Brit whispered. “But you’re a pretty empathetic person.”

Dream didn’t reply.

“I know you know how he truly feels. You’re good at that. Better than me at least. He looks at you like you hung the sun and stars. No, that’s not right. He looks at you like you are the sun and stars. I can see the explosions bursting in his eyes when he sees you. I can see the fire that lights up at your touch.

And I know you see it too.”

George did not stop there.

“And I’m doing this for you too. Because I know you’ll break his heart. And that’ll break yours.”

He faced Dream. His eyes bled with pain and worry and fear. All for Dream. All for his best friend. All for his partner.

Dream tried to speak, but couldn’t. Dream tried to do something, but couldn’t. Dream tried anything and everything. But he just couldn’t.

George looked away, and Dream felt summer slipping from his fingertips.

Nevertheless, the blonde spoke up.

“You don’t know if he truly loves me, George.”

The brunet scoffed. Dream frowned.

“And who’s to say I don’t love him?”

“You didn’t act like it when you introduced me to him.”

“Well,” Dream mumbled. “That was months ago. Besides, I think…”

George sent an accusatory glare as he spoke.

“You think what?”

* * *

* * *

“I think people can fall in love with time.”

Technoblade hummed in agreement.

“So if you’re not in love now, you can be in the future. Or if you weren’t in love in the past, you can be in love now.”

Neither knew when it had begun. But somewhere in the night, Dream started talking. About his issue. When it happened. How it happened. He went on and on and on. Techno now knew details he never wished to know. He knew stories and secrets and opinions that Dream had.

Yet at the core of it, he was beating around the bush.

Green eyes looked at Techno for…

What exactly? Comfort? Contradiction? Agreement?

But Technoblade had nothing to offer. Not when Dream still had skeletons in his closet. All he could do was stare at the man before him. This ethereal, celestial man. Blessed by Apollo and Helios.

“Dream,” Techno called out. “Between the two of us, you’re the better person when it comes to emotions.”

A bitter, sour taste stuck his tongue. He was eating chalk and mercury. Bile climbed up his oesophagus, mauling each and every bit of wall he had. Were these the right words to say? Should he give more than just this? Should he tell Dream to be completely frank?

Techno decided otherwise.

“I believe you should do what your heart tells you to.”

A bird chirped in the distance.

This was it.

The night had come to an end. The sun’s rays were slipping past the treetops. Their time had come.

The beast stood, stretching out a hand for his companion.

Dream took it.

Techno held Dream’s hand. Squeezed it. Grasped it.

“So what now, Dream?”

Dream pulled his hand away from Techno’s.

Silence settled between them. The beast’s heart raced; fear gnawed on his bones.

But the other smiled. A step bridged the gap between them. And another. One more left  
mere inches between the two.

* * *

* * *

And Dream kissed the other man’s cheek.

His companion — now something even more — burned with heat. Nearly as hot as the blazing afternoon sun hanging above their heads. He heard a gasp, a stutter, maybe even a squeal. But Dream’s head was underwater; they went unheard.

“Let’s date,” Dream whispered against cinnamon-flavoured skin.

As he pulled away, he took in the burning brown irises in front of him, swirling like coffee in autumn evenings.

“Yeah,” Dream repeated — whether it was for him or for the man before him, he did not know — “Let’s date…

“Fundy.”

**Author's Note:**

> This one flowed a lot easier than the last one. I always wanted to do a non-linear narrative sort of fic, and this is definitely my first time. I hope it was understandable. Also please excuse the formatting if it's a bit cramped. First time fiddling with HTML, and I did this near midnight.
> 
> BTW, some things you might want to think about when it comes to this fic:
> 
>   1. I used flowers to describe Techno's hair 3 times. Meadowsweets symbolise uselessness and is usually used in courtship. Petunias symbolise anger and resentment, but it can also say, 'Being with you is soothing.' Some sources say that petunias also symbolise longing. Sweet peas are associated with blissful pleasure and goodbyes.
>   2. Tourmaline, a green and pink gem, was used to describe Dream's eyes at one point. Though its colour fit the situation I used it in, it is also said to symbolise danger.
>   3. In real life, Dream dislikes coffee. Hates it even.
> 

> 
> Use the additional information as you will :)


End file.
